You want what?
by ReikaLady
Summary: Just a brief, and slightly silly, scene of how one N7 infiltration specialist reacts to her new, experimental armor. No spoilers for the main ME3 game. References to the multiplayer DLCs. M for language.


"You have got to be shitting me. You want me to try out _what_?" The tall, lithe woman glared with intense black eyes at the tech who had the misfortune of breaking the news to her. It didn't help that the pallor of what should be naturally bronzed skin, caused by years of wearing full combat armor, accentuated the intensity of her furiously indignant gaze.

Holding his hands up defensively, the dark skinned man with short dreads said consolingly, "Now, Shiv -"

With the sharp angular planes of her face and high cheekbones set off by the severe short cropped, glossy black hair, most would assume her features were the source of her callsign. They were assuming incorrectly. She'd gotten that name from her knife-work at the end of her N1 course. Or maybe her personality. "Don't take that tone with me, Jack."

Jack glared back at her, for a civvie the man had a pair, which was probably how he still around to service her unit. With all the soldiers with engineering ability being used in combat arenas against the Reapers, the Alliance had taken to accepting civilians for non-combat support roles such as armorers. Too many couldn't deal with her unit. And to be honest with herself, Shiv in particular. "It's not my idea, but I am going to make you hear me out. Captain's orders."

"Then why isn't he here?" She shifted her glare from the tech to the offending item.

"We all know the man can barely operate an omni-tool, much less explain the functions of the new armor.'

She glowered some more, "It's a re-purposed Phantom armor suit. Aside from the fact that someone was kind enough to hose out the remains of the previous wearer and repainted it, I can't see how I can use it when I'm not a biotic."

That Jack didn't hide his wince somehow helped her sour mood. He ruffled his dreads with both hands, causing them to stick out every which way, "It's not a re-purposed suit. It's one of the designs the Phoenix group brought with them when they defected from Cerberus. The R&D folks fine tuned it so that anyone with the right infiltration training can use it since it's all tech based."

Eying the black and gray armor, Shiv asked warily, "Then why me? I'm not the only one with that training."

His teeth flashed whitely against his dark skin, "You're the only N7 in the unit with the right skillset, including the use of a blade. Since a sword is a part of the whole system, you're the top pick."

"Oh for fuck's sake, I only used my combat knife a few times. And now they think I'm some sort of goddamn ninja?"

"A few times?" He smirked at her, "Who is it that when she runs out of ammo she doesn't bother to see what she can find and instead uses her knives, and the plural is correct, to shank her targets in the back while cloaked?"

Shiv gave him a sideways look, "I wouldn't know."

"Uh huh, you just keep telling yourself that. But I don't have to look at the maintenance logs to say that your guns take far less abuse than the knives you carry. You'll like the sword, it won't break as easily if you try to stab a brute again."

"That's a situation I try very hard to avoid after that one time." Running into the twisted monstrosity made from Turian and Krogan parts had been a terrifying moment especially given the fact she was running from a banshee. And she was all out of cobra missiles. And said banshee was between her and the rest of her squad. She'd taken a chance at stabbing the thing through an eye as it lowered its head to charge her. A chance that paid off. And resulted in a broken blade.

Better the blade than her.

Maybe she was old fashioned in using combat knives instead of an omni-blade, but the wrist mounted weapon seemed to lack the precision of the hand wielded weapons.

Jack shook his head, dreads flopping slightly with the movement, "Right." His tone drew another scowl. He grinned again, "Anyway, the sword is used to help direct the electric lash of the suit."

Shiv couldn't believe what she just heard. "Lash? Jack, I'm not into kind of crap, no matter what the rumors say about my sexual excapades."

The tech just rolled his eyes and went on, "And taking a page out of the book of biotics, it uses mass effect fields to help launch you across the area to take out whatever your target is. It works with your cloak to give you a little time to sneak away.'

All she could do was stare at him speechlessly. There wasn't enough profanity in the galaxy to do any justice of the disgust churning away inside of her. Alliance command could come up with weird shit, but this really topped the list.

Not saying else for the moment, Jack handed her a datapad with the specs. It took every ounce of willpower not to fling it at his head after she skimmed through it. Seriously, what the fuck was up with the twisted bastard that cooked this idea up?

With a tired sigh, Jack flopped down into a nearby chair, "I don't know what to tell you, Shiv. I've seen the footage of the testing. It's surprisingly effective. Given your inclinations in combat, it'll be perfect for you."

She couldn't resist another scowl at the offending piece of equipment. And could have sworn it smirked at her.

"Maybe I can bribe you then?"

That earned him her curiosity, "Really now?"

His head bobbed, "If you don't inquire into the origins of the meat, I can grill us some burgers and we can watch the latest Blasto flick. But that's only if you give the suit an honest try."

Damn, that was tempting. They'd all heard there was a new Blasto movie, but then the Reapers showed up and life went to hell in a handbasket. She didn't really care that much for the series, but the chance for a little bit of normality of dinner and a movie?

She grinned at him as she grabbed the suit, "Sounds like we've got a date."

The look on his face was priceless and worth the potential embarrassment of the damn suit.


End file.
